


Shatter, Colour, Patter

by pitterpatterpot



Series: Throne Family [5]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, OC's - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 02:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17438273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pitterpatterpot/pseuds/pitterpatterpot
Summary: Aedion confesses some of his regrets to his father... and meets his uncles, the two older brothers of the Lion.





	Shatter, Colour, Patter

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a fic about Gavriel, Aedion, and some interactions with them, along with a surprise visit from Aedion's uncles!

12.

 

“Do you even know half the things your son has done?”

 

Gavriel can’t help but blink at the short woman in front of him, her face so red and swelled that he first believed she was approaching him to request some kind of aid. Yet the way her fists clench and shake at her sides accompanied by her rasping breaths suggests rage instead of fear.

 

Rage aimed at his son.

 

“I’m sorry,” Gavriel turns to properly face her, the large courtyard empty besides them. “Has something occurred? I’d be happy to help if anything-“

 

“He killed my boy.”

 

Gavriel pauses, lowering his hand as the woman gulps down air with the desperation of a person drowning in their tears. She has a Terrasen accent, signalling that she is a native of the land. Was her son also from Terrasen? Is that why she is angered; does she believe Aedion’s choices as the general resulted in her son’s death on the battle field? Or did her son work for Adarlan and Aedion killed him in the midst of the war?

 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Gavriel’s voice remains grave, finally beginning to understand the weight of what losing a child may feel like.

 

“He stabbed him in the back,” the woman laughs harshly, the sound lacking the mirth that usually accompanies the action. “Literally and figuratively. He worked for the Terrasen army and your son, who worked for the king, slaughtered him. I don’t care if he was a spy, or a liar or whatever the hell he was. He killed people of Terrasen for the king, and nobody does anything about it.”

 

The words are somewhere, somewhere deep down where Gavriel can’t find them to bring them up his throat. Maybe they aren’t there at all, perhaps the words are all just lost somewhere, unable to find their way to him. Seeing that he has nothing to say, nothing at all, the woman turns around and walks away, sobbing as he does.

 

He knew. Gavriel knew his son played both sides of the war for the sake of Terrasen, but it never occurred to him that there would be those that hate Aedion for doing so. That his son could be detested by people whom he stole sons, fathers, sisters and mothers from. He knows Aedion’s nightmares, has watched his son thrash as invisible flames lick at his skin and dig in their splintering teeth, but it has never occurred to him before that perhaps Aedion isn’t the one being burnt. Perhaps he is the one doing the burning.

 

~~~

 

The pale, drawn look on Aedion’s face all throughout dinner gives Gavriel enough of an indication as to wether or not the woman approached his son. Aedion sits two seats down from him, next to Lysandra, not at all oblivious to the looks his father sends his way. The famous Ashryver eyes meet tawny gold, and then flick away, the body movement following by such a small degree that Gavriel wouldn’t have noticed in if not for the close attention he’s been paying to Aedion’s tells. Such as the tell of guilt that he’s now displaying.

 

Gavriel needs to talk to his son.

 

As if sensing his father’s intentions, Aedion drifts away as soon as dinner comes to a close, slipping around corners and tangling himself in the endless maze of hallways. If not for the way Gavriel’s senses easily pick up on the scent of his child it would have taken the Lion much longer to find the eldest blonde Ashryver. Aedion himself seems to realise how futile his attempt at escape are, Gavriel finally finding him sitting on the ledge of a large doorway, looking out into the gardens with his hands clasped and elbows resting on his knees.

 

“I know she talked to you,” Aedion keeps his focus on the flush green of the gardens, not sparring Gavriel a glance as his father sits by him. 

 

Sitting patiently, Gavriel waits. There’s no point in asking the question when they both so clearly know what it is, when they’re both aware of what direction the conversation may take.

 

“Have you ever done something you regret deeply?” Aedion’s voice is a somber baritone, too deep and pained for someone his age. “Something that weighs on your soul until you learn to walk with it’s heavy weight? To breath with barely any air?”

 

The words, so carefully crafted from grief, shouldn’t draw a surprised laugh out of Gavriel the way they do. His son’s head jerks to look at him, eyes wide, leaning to the side slightly with one arm braced on his knee, face painted with disbelief. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Gavriel chuckles, drawing back his breaths. “Aedion, I’m over five hundred years old, nearing six hundred. If I didn’t have regrets it wouldn’t be much of a life.”

 

He can see the words being processed in his son’s mind in the way Aedion’s eyes focus in the distance, as if reading Gavriel’s words in the air to find a proper definition. “What do you regret the most?”

 

The Lion’s heart nearly stutters to a stop.

 

~~~

 

_“Did you hear?”_

 

_“I heard she left the family first.”_

 

_“Something about being disowned maybe?”_

 

_“Buried where she lived-“_

 

_Gone?_

 

_No, she can’t be gone. Not her, not when she was fine just a few years ago, with her vivid eyes and golden hair and smile that, gods-be-damned, could defeat the sun._

 

_Not someone so bright, so young and full of joy and love._

 

_If only-_

 

~~~

 

“Your mother,” Gavriel croaks out. “Leaving your mother and not knowing about your existence. Not being there for your childhood, to aid and protect you.”

 

Aedion sucks in a slow, shuddering breath. “I once helped murder a legion of Terrasen men to keep my cover in front of an Adarlan general.”

 

~~~

 

_It’s broken_

 

_The bond. It’s..._

 

_Broken._

 

_And the pain, it’s too much for just a wound in the arm. But the breaking of a blood oath is so much more than physical injuries. It’s a cracking and realigning of the soul. But then again..._

_That sadness is gone. That controlling hand that grasps and twists and gives orders is gone. Finally._

 

_Yet the iron coffin is still brought forward. Yet still, out of all this pain, nothing is achieved. If only Meave had agreed, if only the punishment could have been shifted..._

 

~~~

 

“I regret not being able to stop Maeve’s capturing of Aelin,” Gavriel’s voice has become the same quiet whisper as his sons, their conversation so out of place on the sunny day they look upon. “Of failing to protect her.”

 

“No one asked you to protect her. Or me.”

 

Gavriel has no answer.

 

~~~

 

“- _you doom your son to die.”_

 

_Son?  
_

_Son?_

 

_The air is gone, gone and sucked out of the room and why has silence come when Rowan is still talking and Fenrys is looking with concern why-_

 

_Son._

 

_Goods gods._

 

_But that means... that means that a child was born. Not the young female that looked so much like her yet was too young, no. Another child. The irony of dismissing the idea, and yet-_

 

_A son._

 

~~~

 

“I once burned down a church,” Aedion shares his shame, face more sheepish then guilty. “Not on the kings orders. I just accidentally started a fire.”

 

Gavriel stares at his son and, once again, has to struggle to keep a straight face. “I- did anyone die? I mean- good gods, you didn’t kill a priest or priestess did you? _”_

 

“No...”

 

“But?”

 

“But I shattered the stained glass window on purpose,” Aedion catches his father’s exasperated look. “What? I was already burning! And the look of that coloured glass shattering as the fire illuminated the colours was magnificent.”

 

Gavriel mutters under his breath, warped words of irresponsible teenagers and young adults before turning to his son once again. “That doesn’t count as a guilt if you‘re proud of it.”

 

“I‘m not!”

 

“Aedion.”

 

“Find, maybe a little.”

 

Gavriel shakes his head, but resolved himself to his son’s guilt. “Fine. I regret not knowing of your existence. Of needing to hear it from Rowan as a bargaining chip instead of in a more joyous way.”

 

Aedion snorts. “I’m still pissed at him for that.”

 

“I would have found out sooner or later.”

 

“Not the point. It was about me and you, not him. I understand why he did it, but I’m still pissed.”

 

“I assume you hold grudges?”

 

“Why do you think Kyllian hasn’t come back in the castle?” Aedion’s lips twitch just barely into a smile.

 

“That’s about right,” Gavriel mutters under his breath.

 

“He’s not that bad.”

 

“Very few people manage to aggravate me the way he and Fenrys do.”

 

“Right,” Aedion laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… I can’t forget what I’ve done to these people. And neither can they.”

 

“You gave everything for them,” Gavriel reminds his son softly.

 

“I know,” Aedion’s gaze is solemn, his smile sad, “but there were times where I almost took everything as well.”

 

“You just need to learn from those times. I know that it’s overpaid and doesn’t help the guilt, but in truth nothing will. You’ll never be able to erase your mistakes, and I won’t lie by saying that the guilt and shame will never haunt you,” Gavriel meets his son’s eyes head on. “But the only way you can make it worse is by learning nothing from them, by making them completely pointless. Don’t do that, Aedion. Remember and learn from them. I’m not telling you to ignore them, that’ll do nothing but cause the guilt to fester, so just learn to accept them. If you ever need to speak of them don’t hesitate to talk to me, you learn and release by reflection.”

 

His son nods solemnly, the two of them turning back to the picturesque scene in front of them, two children playing in the gardens in the distance. 

 

“But really, a _church?_ ”

 

“How many times do I need to apologies!?”

 

“Depends. How many churches have you burnt down?”

 

“Just the two!”

 

“ _Two_?”

 

 

 

13.

 

Steel clangs against steel, Aedion quickly shifting his feet underneath him as Gavriel advances faster and faster towards him. Sweat slowly rolls down his face, neck, back, as his father advances at a terrifying pace. 

He’s forced back another step, Gavriel sweeping his sword in a quick manoeuvre that throws him off balance. In the corner of his mind Aedion is aware of the warriors that have stopped to watch them, quickly clearing the thought sin his head to give his father his undivided attention.

Gods, the Lion is vicious.

Aedion barely sees what Gavriel does, barely rkegestures that fake feint to the right that he falls for before-

 

“Shit.”

 

Aedion wheezes, staring up at the roof.

 

“You held out longer this time,” Gavriel smiles down at him, content with allowing Aedion time to regain his breath. “You still need to work on your defence.”

 

“I always have,” Aedion accepts the hand to stand, pulling himself up. “Where did you learn to fight?”

 

Something flickers in Gavriel’s eyes. “My father.”

 

Aedion pauses, absorbing the information. His grandfather. “What was he like?”

 

“He was,” Gavriel’s mouth tightens, “distant. Strong, steady, but distant at best. As a lord he had many duties to attend to, my mother equally as busy as a lady.”

 

Another piece of information to store away. “I heard you had two older brothers? Are they still alive?”

 

He swears that the Lion, the white-knight of Terrasen, winces. That an invisible shudder slides its way up his body before settling into a jerk.

 

“They are,” Gavriel’s eyes shift to the side, his body angling away.

 

“I have uncles?” Aedion rubs at his chest, at the bruise sure to form there. “Where are they?”

 

“Most likely working with Rowan’s relatives, working out how to handle the territories now that Meave is gone.”

 

“Why haven’t we come into contact with them?” Aedion flips his shield up with his foot, easily grabbing it. 

 

“After I took the blood bond we fell out of contact,” grief flickers in Gavriel’s eyes. “I wrote them a letter, but they haven’t replied.”

 

“Do they have children?” Aedion feels dread creep up his spines. “Do I have more cousins?”

 

Aelin, Elide and Galan are more than enough. Any more and he’ll be worn down to the bone from negotiating and fighting. 

 

And fires.

 

Honestly, two of them don’t even have fire magic yet still find a way on a weekly basis.

 

Fucking arsonists. 

 

“No,” Gavriel shakes his head, smiling as if reading Aedion’s thoughts. “We’re old fae. To have children is increasingly difficult for us. The very fact that my mother managed to birth three children at all was rare. The very fact that you exist is even rarer.”

 

“And your elder brother rules your land?”

 

“Correct.”

 

“And he has no heir?”

 

“None that I know of,” Gavriel claps Aedion on the shoulder, laughing under his breath. “Of course, there could be more secret sons in the family.”

 

A joke that sparks a smile on Aedion’s face instead of rage. 

 

“But if he and your middle brother have no heir, and you do, then who will the land go to once they die?”

 

He sees the realisation draw on Gavriel, the way his father’s tawny eyes slowly slide to him. Gavriel’s body stiffens, his hand on Aedion’s shoulder becoming cold. 

 

~~~

 

“Stop laughing,” Aedion growls, arms crossed.

 

“You-“ Aelin gasps, grinning brightly at Aedion. “You’re the lord of a land you’ve never even been to.”

 

“Potential lord,” Gavriel cuts in, face riddled with worried, sitting forward to clasp his hands. 

 

Sunlight pours into Aelin’s office, lighting the walls and carpet in a holden glow. The queen sits behind her desk, paperwork cast to the side, Rowan leaning against the wall behind her with an equally amused expression.

 

“Potential lord,” Aelin rolls her eyes. “So neither of Gavriel’s brothers have any known children. That means that when they die the land goes to Gavriel. Then Aedion.”

  
“Yes,” Gavriel recline back in his chair. “From what I’ve heard my eldest brother hasn’t sired children. My second eldest brother and his husband haven’t adopted or found help to have a child either.” 

 

“Right,” Aelin grins wickedly, glancing between the two of them. “Does Galan and our wonderful Ashryver family know that you own land?”

 

It would give some the elders a heart attack. It already shocked them enough to know that they had rejected the son of one of Meave’s greatest warriors. While the look on their faces would be pleasing it could also add further complications. 

 

“They don’t know,” Aedion increases his glare. “For all we know one of Gavriel’s brothers may have a child.”

 

“I wouldn’t know if they do,” Gavriel wipes at his face with a scarred, tattooed hand. “They didn’t respond to the letters I sent them.”

 

“Just ask them tomorrow,” Rowan frowns. 

 

Slowly, Gavriel blinks, the motion more feline than human. “Tomorrow?”

 

Rowan cocks his head. “Tomorrow. I know that your communication with them has been rough but I would have thought you’d like to be here when they arrive.”

 

Silence drops through the room, a clock loud and clear, ticking away.

 

Aedion resists the urge to sink low in his seat. His uncles. The brothers of one of the most known warriors in the world. The _older_ brothers, who were raised by the same distant father and busy mother. Will they be as steady and kind as the lion, or will they try to rip apart any unwanted cubs they find?

 

~~~

 

“Good gods, you’re tall!”

 

Aedion stiffens immediately at the two strong arms that wrap around him, dragging him into a strong hug. His eldest uncle pats him heartedly on the back, knocking the air from Aedion’s lungs. His second uncle and his husband both swoop in for hugs next. 

He glances at Aelin, who blinks at them from her throne. As soon as they had spotted Aedion the two males walked right up to him, wrapping him in arms and patting his shoulders to ask him a barrage of questions. Fenrys smirks by Rowan, sneakily whispering something to the silver-haired male that causes him to snort. 

 

Gavriel stands next to Aedion, also blinking at the onslaught of his brothers as they switch between hugging Aedion to hugging him. 

Once they’re done they pull back, smiling the same smile that Aedion inherited from his father. 

 

The eldest brother, Heiral, has the same golden hair and tanned skin as Gavriel, his hair just a little longer than Gavriel’s. His features aren’t as broad, his eyes just a darker shade. Handsome, yet lean intelligence lines his frame. he excitedly beams at Aedion, joy radiating. 

 

The middle brother, Marco, his hair a shade darker than both his brothers. His skin is the same golden shade, leaner than Gavriel yet stronger looking than Heiral. He has a slightly calmer than Heiral, his excitement softer and quieter. His husband, Leo, has darker brown hair, green eyes and a wide smile, his excitement making up for Marco’s quiet reaction. 

 

“Look at you!” Heiral grins, grabbing Aedion by the shoulders to shake him slightly. “You’re as tall as we are!”

 

Indeed, all three brothers are just as tall. Elide has to crane her neck to look at them from where she stands by Lorcan, eyes wide. Lorcan himself takes in the situation stoically, his angling in front of Elide the only sign of his apprehension. 

 

“Right,” Aedion glances to his father, Gavriel standing helplessly to the side.

 

“We came as soon as we heard you were Gavriel’s son,” Marco smiles, stepping forward to pat Aedion’s shoulder. “A warrior, just like your father.”

 

“Right,” Aedion repeats, fighting the urge to step back from the two males.

 

“Meeting you is all they’ve been talking about,” Leo grins. “All the way here it was ‘I wonder what Gavriel’s son is like!’ and ‘should we bring anything?’ and ‘is it rude to show up without a kingdom-warming gift?’”

 

“We never said that!” Heiral rolls his eyes. “A kingdom-warming gift. As if we’d suggest that.”

 

“But we did bring a plant,” Marco shrugs, gesturing to the small fern he placed by Gavriel’s feet. “We were in a rush. Sorry.”

 

“Thank you for the gift,” Aelin rises from her throne, sending Aedion a questioning glance.

 

He stares back helplessly, eyes wide and bewildered.

 

“I guess we’re family, so you can stay as long as you want,” Aelin smiles brightly, it only a little forced. “We’ve already prepared rooms for you.”

 

Heiral turns from Aedion to bow deeply, Marco copying his actions. “Thank you, your majesty.”

 

“I heard you helped Rowan’s cousins and family de-throne Meave?” Aelin raises a brow.

 

“No one liked that controlling bitch,” Marco mutters under his breath, turning back to Aedion. 

 

A wide smirk spreads on Aelin’s face. “Right. You three are definitely welcome to stay as long as you want.”

 

“We’re just sorry we couldn’t come sooner,” Heiral shrugs, turning back to Gavriel. “We heard you were injured?”

 

Dumbly, Gavriel nods, unable to speak.

 

“Look at that scar; of course he was,” Marco snorts. “When is he not hurt? First you went off to be a warrior than you got yourself blood-sworn to a psycho bitch-queen.” 

 

Everyone in the room pauses at that, except Aelin, who releases a loud bout of laughter. Heiral winces in embarrassment, Marco just grinning at the bellowing queen. 

 

“There was no greater honour at the time!” Gavriel replies in a tone that suggests they’ve had this conversation many times.

 

Marco shakes his head, still scowling. “You could have at least told us you had a child!”

 

“I didn’t know until a year ago!”

  
“Then why did it take us hearing rumours and stories to learn about Aedion? You could have sent a letter a year ago!”

 

“I did!” Gavriel rubs at his face. “I sent you both a letter for the first time in years a few days ago! If I knew you were coming I would have just _waited!_ ”

 

“It is good to see you again, Gavriel,” Leo chuckles, stepping forward to embrace his brother-in-law warmly.  

 

Sighing, releasing his tension, Gavriel returns the gesture. “And you, Leo. How has your family been?”

 

“As expected,” Leo raises his brows. “Don’t let them fool you; these two have missed you as much as you missed them. They just didn’t want to get tangled anywhere near Meave.” 

 

“Leo,” Marco hisses. 

 

“Well, Meave is dead,” Heiral grins brightly, clapping Aedion on the shoulder once again. “And we have a new nephew to learn about!”

 

“I’ll have someone show you to your rooms first,” Aelin clears her throat, fighting back a smile. “You can join us for dinner if you’d like?” 

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Heiral bows again, turning sheepish. “Please excuse our excitement. We’d be honoured to dine with you all.”

 

“Excellent,” Aelin nods. “Then we’ll see you tonight.”

 

Leo, Heiral and Marco all leave the hall, winding away. Everyone waits a few moments, unwilling to speak when the fae males may hear them if they are not far away enough.

 

Finally, after three minutes, Aelin brakes the silence.

 

“Holy shit.”

 

Aedion releases a shuddering breath at the words, laughing as he buries his head in his hands. Aelin joins him, chuckling under her own breath.

 

“I thought they were going to be terrifying,” Aedion stares wide-eyed at his father.

 

Gavriel, looking dazed and off-put, stares down at the fern. “I-It has been a few years…”

 

“I love them,” Aelin grins. “We’re inviting them over for every future holiday.”

 

“Gods, yes!” Fenrys cackles, clearly delighted by the idea.

 

“Aedion, are you alright?” Elide asks over the chatter.

 

“Fine,” Aedion brushes off his shirt. “I was honestly expecting them to be giant, tattooed warriors that wanted to fight me.”

 

Gavriel frowns at his son. “Where exactly do you think I come from? I told you that I took to soldiering thanks to my lack of land to inherit. Marco and Heiral took on the more political roles.”

 

“I just didn’t expect that,” Aedion runs his hands through his hair, beating back the desire to slouch. “Were you?”

 

Gavriel hesitates. “My ties to Meave were the biggest strain on our relationship. They didn’t like her or what she stood for, Marco especially.”

 

“I love Marco,” Aelin murmurs under her breath.  

 

“I didn’t think they’d hug me,” Aedion glances in the direction they went, as if expecting them to magically reappear for another embrace.

 

“You’re the first new member of our family,” Gavriel sighs, picking up the fern. “Just get ready for dinner. We may have some difficult conversations.”

 

~~~

 

“-and then Marco flew off the front of the sled, I dropped of the back, and Gavriel just keep going!” Heiral grins.

 

Aedion bellows with laughter, Lysandra, Aelin, Rowan and Fenrys all following suit. Even Marco and Gavriel crack smiles themselves.

 

“Honestly,” Heiral chokes out through his laughter, “your father seemed to be fearless from the day he was born!”

 

“I can imagine that,” Lysandra grins. 

 

As soon as they had met the shifter Marco, Leo and Heiral had been delighted, all of them taking turns in meeting the shifter, shaking her hand, and (to Aelin and Lysandra’s amusement) thanking her for ‘taking such good care of Aedion.’ She in like just laughed and hugged the brothers back, enjoying their company as much as Aelin. 

It’s refreshing, to have new faces.

 

And Aedion, as much as hates to admit it, is starting to relax around the three strangers. They tell him stories of their childhood with Gavriel. they listen to the stories Aedion tells in return, they don’t blink an eye at Lysandra or the rumours they’ve most likely heard about Aedion himself. 

It’s so strange to find out that he has new family. Family that he never knew he had, and yet is now surrounding him, clapping him on the back and calling him ‘nephew.’

It’s strangely appealing, in a way, to know that he has more blood-relatives ready to stand by him. 

 

“I remember the first time Gavriel turned into a lion,” Marco grins. “He took his time.”

 

“It’s a family trait,” Leo smiles at Aedion. “All three of these giant cats have had the ability since they were young. At the very least they were all over ten when they first shifted into their animal form.”

 

“What about you?” Heiral grins at Aedion, leaning in closer. “Learn how to roar yet?”

 

“I’ve always done that,” Aedion snorts.

 

Heiral laughs, sitting back. “Guess you inherited that family trait!”

 

“But can you shift?” Marco examines Aedion. “Do you have either a fae or animal form?”

 

At that, Aedion hesitates. “I’ve never shifted.”

 

“Yet you’ve progressed far in your training,” Gavriel smiles warmly at his son. “Maybe one day you’ll be able to shift.”

 

“He’s the lions cub,” Marco rolls his eyes, gesturing to Aedion with his glass. “He’ll probably shift at the worse possible moment. Like Gavriel did.”

 

Aedion leans forward eagerly. “Tell me.”

 

“We don’t need to go into details,” Gavriel clears his throat, coming close to glaring at his brother.

 

“I’d like to hear,” Aedion scowls at his father before turning to grin at his eldest uncle. “Tell me.”

 

“I’d like to know as well,” Aelin grins a similar smirk, leaning in anticipation.

 

“Our mother was holding a gala with other lords and ladies of the land attending,” Heiral twirls his fork, smirking. “Gavriel never really liked those things. He preferred to to out and about and moving. Of course, he’s known for his legendary patience, but as a child he struggled more in concealing his desire to avoid the gatherings.”

 

“Not that we were any better,” Marco rolls his eyes. “Those things are torture.”

 

“So during the gala we were all standing around, ready to eat food,” Heiral braces his arms on the table. “Our mother was up front, speaking about some issue or another- I can’t remember which, it was over five hundred years ago- while wearing a family heirloom. A necklace with a tiny, small ruby on the end shaped like a tear drop.”

 

Gavriel places his head in his hands. Aedion notices, then switches his attention back to his uncle.

 

“During the speech, our dear, lovely mother… slipped,” Heiral grins slowly, drawing out the story, gathering everyone’s attention. “It was a tidal wave of people all rushing forward to grab her, desperate to catch the hard-working Lady of the lands! And while those hands were grappling for her the ruby necklace, the one she wore all her life, _flew_ off her neck, _vaulted_ over the crowd and _soared_ right above our heads!”  

 

“And Gavriel turned into a lion, jumped up and grabbed it,” Marco raises his brows at his brother, “then swallowed it.”

 

Aedion can barely breath, doubling over much like everyone else.

 

“It was a good effort considering it was the first time he turned into a lion,” Heiral shrugs, barely hiding his smirk. “So, boyo, when was the first time you turned into a lion?”

 

Aedion’s laugh dries up into a cough. “I haven’t actually ever turned into a lion before.” 

 

“Never?” Marco tilts his head, brows scrunched. “You have a high amount of fae blood so it should be possible.”

 

“Well,” Aedion’s eyes slide to the side, “there was never really an opportunity to try with magic closed off.”

 

“Of course!” Heiral grins. “And now that magic is freed we can help!”

 

Gavriel splutters into his drink, pulling back as he coughs. “I’m sorry?”

 

“We’ll teach the boy how to shift!” Heiral grins, slapping Gavriel on the back. “Get the lion his cub.”

 

All the gulps are almost audible.

 

~~~

 

“Really, we don’t have to do this-“

 

“Nonsense,” Marco smiles at Aedion, apparently on board with the plan as much as his other brother. “This’ll also be a good opportunity to all get to know about each other.”

 

All of them. Such as Heiral and Marco standing in the straining ring with Aedion, Leo standing to the side with Gavriel pacing behind him. And Aedion would be a fool to assume that the bird watching from a tree isn’t Rowan, that the ghost leopard he saw on his way wasn’t Lysandra, and that Fenrys isn’t the wolf lurking around the ring. Thank the gods Lorcan and Vaughan aren’t here. Three birds of prey would be suspicious.

 

Right, as if the wolf and leopard aren’t obvious. 

 

“So,” Marco smiles gently at Aedion, obviously scenting his nerves, “have you gone through any breathing exerci-“

 

“Yes,” Aedion quickly jumps in. “Gods, yes.” 

 

“Alright?” Marco slides his gaze to Gavriel for confirmation, who nods. “Alright. Then I guess we have to go onto the physical side of things. How often do you train?”

 

“Four to six hours a day,” Aedion shrugs loosely. “Three if I’m too busy.”

 

“Alright,” Heiral mutters. “It’s obviously not a physical thing. Maybe you don’t have enough magic? Or maybe your body just doesn’t feel safe enough to shift?”

 

Gavriel catches the small jolt that goes through his son at that, and perks up in curiosity. “Aedion? Do you think that could be it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Aedion hesitates. “Being fae has been a dangerous thing to be for years.”

 

“Of course,” Marco says lowly, deep in thought. “The war broke out when you were, what, thirteen? That’s the age demi-fae can start experiencing changes, such as growing magic or a shift in forms. But your magic and shifting abilities were cut off, and along with that you watched fae be persecuted and locked up-“

 

“And burnt and tortured,” Aedion can’t help but interrupt, brief anger flashing through him. “Most of the fae died. Many were burnt alive.”

 

He can sense Gavriel’s gaze on him, yet he can’t help it. They had no help, and he won’t allow them to ignorantly believe that the majority of the fae were taken prisoners. He won’t spit on the past in such a way.

 

And they seem to understand that. Both his uncles nod, faces grave. Marco leans in a little closer to Aedion, eyes narrowed.

 

“You know,” Marco peers closely at his eyes, “you may just not be mature enough yet.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“What he means,” Heiral steps in with a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “is that we all may have tawny eyes, but when we were born we all had blue eyes. As they mature a lions eyes become fully gold, losing the blue. Now, thanks to your Ashryver blood it could mean that that’s just the way your eyes are, but once you settle there’s a chance the gold will continue to grow. You magic could just still be young and brewing inside of you.”

 

“Basically, in fae lion terms, you’re still a cub,” Marco simplifies. “And cubs can’t shift yet.”

 

Silence rings out, no one saying anything as Gavriel turns slightly, a hand raising to cover the smile on his mouth, Leo doing the same at Aedion’s expression. Marco and Heiral just smile at him expectantly, calm with the situation.

 

However, Fenrys apparently can’t hold his wolf form when laughing.

 

Aedion will have to kill him later.

 

~~~

 

“I’m going to miss your uncles,” Aelin mourns, picking at her dinner.

 

“They’re coming back next holidays,” Aedion reminds her. “No need to miss them for long.” 

“True. Hey, cub, can you pass the-“

 

“No,” Aedion glares at Aelin.  
 

Muttering, the queen reaches across her cousin to claim the salt herself. “I bet you wouldn’t mind it if Gavriel ever called you a cub.”

 

Aedion’s eyes slice to his father. “Did you know?”

 

Gavriel pauses in his eating, cocking his head to the side. “I knew you were a lion cub, yes. Once your magic builds up a bit more you may be able to shift. It’s just a matter of waiting now.”

 

“And- I’m sorry,” Lysandra tries to keep a straight face from where she its next to Aedion. “Once he shifts will he be a fully grown lion or…?”

 

“Well he’s never shifted or grown in his animal form before, and it’s been locked away, so he’d most likely be a young lion, yes,” Gavriel leans away from the icy glare his son has him pinned under. “A lot of fae shift into a younger animal the first time they shift.”

 

“True,” Rowan nods from besides Aelin. “They usually grow quite quickly. However,” he raises his brows at Aedion, “there’s no telling what effects will occur thanks to having your fae side leashed for so long.”

 

Aedion mutters under his brother angrily, turning back to his food.

 

“Aw, don’t be so upset, boyo,” Fenrys grins from where he’s seated. “I mean, you were already the lion’s cub. Not much of a difference now.”

 

He just avoids the salt shaker aimed at his head. 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is also chapter 10 of my fic Lion's Pride, so if you like it and want more Aedion and Gavriel stuff just look at that XD


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